Comfort in the Sand
by WanderingTroubadour
Summary: Riza remembers the good and bad times that surrounded Ishval. Royai. Comments are love!


**So, this isn't really what I think would have happened in Ishval, as I think that Roy and Riza are too smart to risk doing anything that would even appear to be fraternization. But I thought it would make for a kind of (?) cute fic. *shrugs* I'm a bit unsure about how it turned out. Let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is not mine. But a girl can dream, you know?  
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Riza Hawkeye awoke in her apartment from a terrible nightmare about Ishval. She glanced over at the clock; it was only 3 am. Knowing she would not be able to get back to sleep for quite some time and that she would not be able to rid her mind of Ishval, she decided instead to focus on the brighter moments of her time spent in the white desert.

The only good times, if they could even be called that, was when she would sleep next to Roy. As one of the only female soldiers in Ishval, she received her own tent under the pretense of protecting her privacy. Roy also had the benefit of his own tent because of his standing as a state alchemist. Often, she would find herself wandering over to Roy's tent in the middle of the night, plagued by the nightmares of the people she had killed the previous day.

She would enter the tent without making a sound and proceed to shake Roy awake, provided he wasn't already kept awake by his own nightmares. The days haunted him just as much, if not more so, than they haunted her. Without uttering a single word, Roy would scoot over and invite Riza into his bed. There, they would remain in the shadows and the familiarity of each other's presence for the rest of the night.

On some nights, it was relatively easy for Riza to sleep once she had the comfort of Roy's arms around her. Usually, though, she just needed someone to talk to who understood the terrors of what she was going through. For most soldiers, combat is wild and random, and they rarely know whether or not they've actually killed someone. But for snipers and state alchemists, having a clear line of sight on their victims, the look of fear and confusion a person gives right before death remains imprinted on their minds until the end of time.

Of course, other soldiers soon learned about the sleeping habits of Roy and Riza. Naturally, they assumed that they were releasing the stress of the day in a more private setting than the brothels that sprung up around the camps offered. They assumed incorrectly. Both Roy and Riza were much too intelligent to risk an unplanned pregnancy, as that would definitely get them both dishonorably discharged and derail every idealistic plan they had entered the military hoping to complete. Besides, they both agreed that their first time should not be in a state of fear or panic, but rather one of love and peace, not to mention that such acts before marriage were frowned upon by the very society they had vowed to protect.

But the facts did not stop people from assuming. Riza was often harassed by other soldiers about her supposed activities. Whenever an unknowing soldier would try to pick her up for a night, another would break in, laughing, and say, "Don't even try it with this one. Everyone knows she's Mustang's little whore. She's with him almost every night—must be pretty good, huh?"

The ridicule stung, of course, but both Riza and Roy knew better than to try to correct them. It was safer if the other soldiers assumed that sex was all they were about, that there were no underlying emotions. That was acceptable for soldiers in the midst of the most trying times any of them had been through. But if the soldiers found out what was truly going on, then they would certainly report them to their superiors in accordance with the anti-fraternization laws, a thing which could result in their separation, a fate far worse than any death or discharge.

So Roy and Riza continued in this manner for the duration of the war, helping ease each other's burdens as much as they could. Then the war ended, and so did their nights together. As Riza lay in her bedroom, she tried to remember the feeling of Roy's body next to hers, the weight of his arms around her, the soothing sound of his voice, the comforting rise and fall of his chest, and his ability to help her see a light at the end of the tunnel. If only he could be here now…

After another half an hour of unsuccessful attempts to settle herself down, Riza gave into the temptation that sat right next to her bed. She picked up the phone and dialed that familiar seven-digit number.

Three eternally long rings, then a groggy voice. "Hello?"

Riza immediately breathed a sigh of relief. What was it about his voice that just made her feel so much better? "Colonel, hi. I'm sorry to bother you—"

Roy cut her off before she could say any more, his voice suddenly alert. "What's wrong? Don't bother with formalities right now. Something happened. Tell me."

She sighed. He was always such an accurate reader of her emotions, not that she had hid them particularly well in this case. "I had a nightmare about Ishval. More of a flashback, really."

"I see. Well, you can't exactly come into my tent like you used to. Should I just stay on the line until you can sleep again? Or do you want to tell me about your dream?" Roy knew that sometimes Riza only needed his presence, or as close to it as she could get. Other times, less often, she needed someone to listen to her. It wasn't often that she asked for him to speak to her—words were something they had never really had a need for, especially those that contained empty comforts and promises of a better tomorrow. They had both seen enough tragedies to know that such words only comforted the young and naïve.

"Just stay on the line, please. I'm feeling much better already. I'm sorry to have woken you—" Again, Riza was shushed by the colonel. Soon, all she heard was his rhythmic breathing, which comforted her much more than any words ever could have.

As Riza listened to his familiar sound in her right ear, she slowly started to drift back to sleep. She dreamed in rhythms and patterns, no longer chased by the specters of her past.

When she awoke, she was surprised to find the phone next to her in bed, taking a moment to remember why it was there in the first place. She put the phone up to her ear and listened, smiling as she heard the heavy breathing of her colonel, fast asleep, phone still tucked between his head and shoulder.


End file.
